


Need

by pensversusswords



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Collars, Dom Katsuki Yuuri, Edging, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pet Play, Puppy Play, Puppy Victor Nikiforov, Sub Victor Nikiforov, Subspace, Top Katsuki Yuuri, puppy space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 16:12:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12279984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensversusswords/pseuds/pensversusswords
Summary: Nothing will ever feel better than being owned by Katsuki Yuuri.





	Need

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday fic for [@kyrstalhoshi](https://twitter.com/krystalhoshi) on Twitter!

Viktor doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this.

Yuuri has been home for an hour, and ever since his arrival he’s done nothing but dote on Viktor with complete adoration. Viktor had opened the door as soon as he heard Yuuri fumbling with the keys on the other side, wearing his favourite silk robe, the one that Yuuri bought him the year before. It’s a soft pale blue and it feels glorious against his bare skin. He loves to wear it over his naked body and feel the way it flutters and slides against his skin.

Most importantly, though, he’s wearing the collar Yuuri also bought for him. It matches the robe; simple and pretty, the leather the exact same shade of soft eggshell blue, set with a delicate yet somewhat sturdy buckle of sterling silver. It’s good quality and holds up just fine most of the time, but it wouldn’t hold up against any rough play. Viktor doesn’t mind that though, they have the thick black collar with the sturdy, heavy duty buckle for those times. He doesn’t want that tonight, though. He just wants to feel soft and pretty and owned.

Nothing makes him feel more special and owned than wearing a pretty collar with “Yuuri” inscribed on the inner side, the word laying against his skin like a brand. Yuuri. Yuuri. He’s Yuuri’s and Yuuri’s alone. Sometimes, he just needs a night of Yuuri’s attention to remind him of that.

Viktor didn’t even have to explain that to Yuuri. When he’d seen Viktor standing there in his robe and collar, eyes wide with surprise until it dawned on him and his face softened. He’d set his bag down and kissed Viktor’s cheek then, rested a hand at the small of his back and pulled him in close. “Hi baby,” he’d said quietly, leaning in to kiss Viktor gently. “I missed you.”

Yuuri knows what Viktor needs on nights like this, so he is well aware of the fact that Viktor wants Yuuri to be touching him as much as physically possible. A hand on his waist, letting Viktor sit in his lap, anything. Viktor just craves his touch. Instead of cooking dinner, Yuuri ordered in, and they sat in the breakfast nook on the long chaise so Viktor could comfortably drape himself over Yuuri while they ate. Yuuri was forced to eat one handed because Viktor absolutely insisted on having Yuuri’s hand in his hair or stroking up and down his side. Yuuri hadn’t complained; Viktor noticed the small, pleased smile and the faint flush that had spread across his cheeks when he whined at the prospect of Yuuri’s hand leaving his body, so he had a small hunch that Yuuri liked it just as much.

Now they’re laying on the couch together, Viktor sprawled along Yuuri’s side, tucked between his body and the back of the couch with his head on Yuuri’s chest. Yuuri had turned on a movie in the background, but Viktor isn’t really paying attention. His eyes are closed and the sound of the television is a soft hum in his ears, fading into the background as he focuses on the sound of Yuuri’s heartbeat, and the steady rhythm of Yuuri’s hand stroking his side. He feels like he’s drifting, like he’s weightless and he’d float away if it weren’t for Yuuri’s hand anchoring him to the moment.

His calm, half lucid state splinters and his eyes fly open when Yuuri’s hand drifts, sliding down to the curve of his ass and squeezing.

Viktor’s heart jumps in his chest, his cock immediately twitches with interested. He stays silent as Yuuri starts to knead his cheek with one hand, his touch gentle and firm all at the same time. His breath shudders as he exhales on unsteady breaths.

“Are you wearing your plug?” Yuuri asks quietly, his mouth so close to Viktor’s ear that his lips brush his earlobe.

“Yes,” Viktor says quickly, breathily. Of course he is. He’d thought of Yuuri when he’d worked it inside of himself; it was hard not to think of Yuuri, considering he can’t look at it without remembering the flush on Yuuri’s cheeks when he gave it to him, the endearing stammering as he explained that he’d sent the company a picture of Viktor so they could customize the attached tail to be the exact colour of Viktor’s hair. He’d been achingly hard as he fingered himself open, his hole slick with lube as he slid it inside, thinking about how happy it would make Yuuri to see him wearing it. Yuuri always is pleased when Viktor wears it.

Unsurprisingly, Yuuri makes a soft, ragged noise of approval at Viktor’s admission. “Good boy,” he says, and shiver runs up Viktor’s spine. Both of them gasp a little when Yuuri’s fingers slide between Viktor’s cheeks to press against the plug.

“~Yuuri,” Viktor pleads; for what, he hardly knows. “You tease.”

Yuuri laughs shakily. “Patience baby.”

Viktor pouts. He’s never been great at patience. To drive this point home, he playfully wiggles his butt a little, turning an imploring gaze on Yuuri.

Yuuri huffs, but the sound is accompanied by a fond smile.

“You’re ridiculous,” he says. Viktor just grins. He’s being cute and he knows it drives Yuuri crazy.

The smugness dissipates, however, when Yuuri lifts his hand from his ass and slides it over to cup Viktor’s cock through the thin fabric of his robe.

Viktor nearly chokes. His fingers grip Yuuri’s shirt tightly and he turns his face into Yuuri’s chest with a small cry. “ _Y-Yuuri.”_

With the same steady movements he’s been using to pet Viktor, he works his hand over Viktor’s cock, squeezing gently and stroking him with a practiced certainty. Slowly, methodically, he works Viktor up to arousal; Viktor can feel himself hardening beneath Yuuri’s hand, and it doesn’t take long for his breath to go choppy and laboured. It doesn’t take much effort for Yuuri to reduce him to a mess.

“This is what you needed, isn’t it puppy?” Yuuri whispers.

“Ah,” Viktor moans, just as Yuuri pauses to gently squeeze his sensitive balls before resuming stroking his hard and aching cock. “Almost,” he manages between gasps.

He moans aloud when Yuuri pushes the robe the robe aside, whimpers when he finally wraps his hand around Viktor’s cock. The first touch is soft and teasing, a mere suggestion of what is clearly to come.

“Now?” he asks.

“C-closer,” Viktor says. More, more, he always wants more. With Yuuri, even when he gives him everything he has, Viktor always wants more. He can’t get enough of Yuuri, it’s not possible for Yuuri to give him too much. He’ll always want more and more.

Viktor makes a soft sound of protest when Yuuri shifts away from him, releasing his cock and scooting out of Viktor’s reach.

“Patience,” Yuuri reminds him with a chuckle. “Lay on your back for me?”

Viktor doesn’t need to be asked twice. He rolls over onto his back, places his feet flat against the couch cushions, knees spread apart. The robe slips down his thighs, bares him to Yuuri’s eyes. He likes it. He likes knowing that Yuuri can see all of him, that he can feel his hungry gaze.

Yuuri returns to his side then, and Viktor shivers when he brushes his fingertips against the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers. "You're a perfect puppy, Vitya."

Viktor preens internally at the reverence in Yuuri’s voice. He would give up every compliment he has ever received in his entire life just for Yuuri calling him pretty in _that_ voice.

Yuuri’s hand drifts down then, sliding along the smooth expanse of Viktor’s skin until he reaches the plug. Viktor feels his hand grasp the tail before he gives a soft, playful tug.

“So pretty,” Yuuri says again. He leans over Viktor then, places his lips on Viktor’s lips as he traces around the rim of the plug as he kisses and _kisses_ Viktor, until his toes are curling and his mouth is damp. Yuuri’s hand finds Viktor’s chest, he tweaks one of his nipples with his fingertips, pinches and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger. Viktor lets out a filthy moan, his back arching up off the couch as if he’s trying to get closer to Yuuri’s touch.

By the time Yuuri slowly pulls the plug from his hole, Viktor’s body is tense with need and he can’t seem to catch his breath. He lays there in desperation as Yuuri slides two lubed fingers into Viktor’s already gaping hole, his other hand stroking his own cock. Viktor can’t help but utter a pleading “Yuuri… Yuuri _please_ ,” as he grinds down on Yuuri’s fingers. Yuuri leans down to kiss him, says “behave Vitya, I’ll give you what you need if you wait.”

Viktor whimpers, but manages to force himself to keep as still as possible. Yes, he’s a good boy, he wants to be Yuuri's good boy, he can be Yuuri's good boy. He's unable to stop breathing out Yuuri’s name on his moans; Yuuri’s name becomes entwined with his breath, as if they had never been separated, as if every breath had always belonged to Yuuri in the first place. Yuuri doesn’t reprimand him. Viktor knows Yuuri likes hearing his own name on Viktor’s lips.

“Don’t come until I say so,” Yuuri commands as he finally, finally slowly pushes his cock into Viktor’s waiting hole. Viktor makes a sound that borders on a sob, a release of all his desperation. This is what he needed; to be filled with Yuuri’s cock, to be surrounded by Yuuri’s presence, to have the feeling of him slowly rocking into him in a steady, leisurely pace.

Yuuri’s mouth lingers on Viktor’s, their tongues sliding against each other, Viktor’s whimpers filling his mouth as Yuuri fucks him. Yuuri’s hand is on his cock, stroking in time with each thrust, and it doesn’t take long for Viktor to be crazy with the need to come.

Warmth is gathering in his belly, unfurling deep inside of him as Yuuri touches him. The feeling of Yuuri’s hand is too much and not enough all at once. He needs more, he needs to come, he needs to come _so badly_. He feels pressure building at his core, building, building--

Yuuri stops stroking his cock, grips the base of his cock as he thrusts in deep. Viktor lets out a cry of dismay.

“Don’t come,” Yuuri growls in his ear. He nips at Viktor’s neck, pauses to suck a mark onto the skin there.

“Yuuri,” Viktor gasps, his voice forlorn and frantic. His body is shuddering with need, he knows his voice is shamelessly desperate. “Yuuri, _please_.”

Yuuri kisses his neck just above the collar as he gyrates his hips, fucking Viktor deep and slow. “Not yet.”

Three more times, Yuuri does this. Three gloriously agonizing times Yuuri does this; brings him just to the brink, lets him teeter on the edge of release before stopping him, bringing the crescendo to a crashing halt. Viktor begs and pleads but Yuuri just kisses him silent and fucks him through it. He hooks a finger underneath Viktor’s collar and uses it as an anchor to leverage each thrust, fucks him hard and deep while Viktor all but wails underneath him.

It’s not until Viktor’s eyelashes are damp and his throat is starting to get raw that Yuuri finally has mercy on him. He sobs when he comes, cries out Yuuri’s name like it’s the only word he knows, shudders violently in Yuuri’s arms as his orgasm surges through him, his hole clenching around Yuuri’s cock and wetness spurting onto their bellies. He says “Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri,” and Yuuri shushes him soothingly as he comes down, tells him he’s a good boy, he did so well. Viktor just clings to Yuuri desperately, face buried in Yuuri’s neck, open mouthed as his sobbing breaths rock his body.

Afterward, Yuuri cradles Viktor in his arms like he’s something precious. He cleans the mess off of them both, grabs a blanket that they keep across the back of the couch and pulls Viktor into his lap. He wraps his arms around Viktor and holds him tight, a calming hand stroking up and down his back. Viktor clings, and Yuuri lets him.

“Was that okay?” Yuuri asks.

Viktor blinks sleepily and burrows in closer to Yuuri’s chest. Yuuri always asks, and Viktor always answers the same.

“Mmm, was perfect,” he mumbles. Yes, it was exactly what he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> For more information on birthday fics and other fun stuff, come join me on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/pensvsswords) or my [tumblr](http://pensversusswords.tumblr.com/)!


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